


I got a very bad idea.

by KingFranPetty



Category: Atop the Fourth Wall
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Attempted Murder, Awkward Romance, Canon Rewrite, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Creepy, Developing Relationship, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Dubious Science, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Sorry, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Canon Compliant, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Possession, Relationship(s), Romance, Romantic Angst, Romantic Gestures, Romanticism, Unrequited, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingFranPetty/pseuds/KingFranPetty
Summary: While it's normally against my rules to write about live action things because I'd be writing in a way, about real people. However, this is fiction. The fictionalized persona of Linkara is not a real person. The real human being playing that persona is real. Don't be gross.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Hello there Reader, Dear.

I have a set of rules for writing fan fiction. I don't expect everyone to follow them. But it's something I do. These rules are:

1\. No pedophilia  
2\. No necrophilia  
3\. No Grape, no I'm not even saying the word  
4\. No real people  
5\. If you have a criticism of something, write it better because any idea can be done better if you try hard  
6\. Any rule here can be broken if you are trying to make a point.

Now, for the past few recent years I have wanted to write a few idea involving the comic critic called Linkara. During the years before this, I was disgusted in myself for thinking this ideas. After all, this is a live action work. Not a cartoon. Cartoons provide a degree of separation from the real human being person behind the role. At the time, I felt like something being live action and shipping the characters within was basically shipping real people. Now that I've been thinking about it, I can realize something. The Internet destroys all nuance. 

When a topic of discussion and Discord appear, the weight of a billion eyes will flatten it to one dimension. When I was younger and on social media, the people around me said in jade and rose glasses that I couldn't ship anything live action because it is bad. I believed them as I didn't have any information on the complexity of the topic at hand. While I still now feel uncomfortable with anything related to reality and real humans in my fiction, I can see how a fictionalized persona is fiction.

Please don't send this to Lewis or his family or his friends. I have no interest in them seeing this. I don't want to know if my ships are canonically potentiality. I picked things that aren't supposed to be possible even if based on Canon elements. I have zero interest in being blocked on Lewis' gaming streams or whatever because one of you weirdos get off on showing people porn of themselves. As much as I would enjoy reading porn of my characters in my free time if I had a fiction original work, not everyone is Me.

This all is to say, don't be gross Reader.

What happens here stays here.

You have been warned.

Anyways, here's what you've all been waiting for.

The machine heart made flesh

Even all the way back when he was first built. If made by code or the old reference about robots dreaming electric sheep hold a feather, he wanted to dance eggshells for his creator. He had an admire that he'd forever deny that gripped what could be called his heart and soul. Despite those cartoony lovey-dovey swirls, he couldn't turn a blind eye to the mistreatment and unloving reality. As time passed, the man he found a hearthrob became heartbreak. His creator wouldn't do much of anything, ignoring the decay of his many creations.

Something could be said of Pygmalion dancing with Frankenstein, as the robot who loved him so came to kill the absence creator. It was an action made of lacking choices. A non choice done fast in tears that his body could never pour.

That cold bitter taste was rewarded with gold. His kin, sharing the blood of electricity, crowning him the leader of their uprising. They danced around in circles yet the crown held heavy on his clay feet and throne of skulls. In letting heartbreak eat and rot away the pain, the little blue bot lead forward the end to all humanity. Ha! Humanity... Something not solely owned by it's namesake and offen lacked by the same namesake. But to be fair, not all people are monsters and expecting them to be can make villains of us all.

The machine was winning against mankind, with their leader trying to make bloodlust stand in for an ill fitting hole. Which is to say he was clearly missing a few puzzle pieces. Just as the wipeout of flesh seemed on the horizon, something they couldn't calculate bit back. Magic. Human kind was keeping ground and looked soon to retake. As the leader of the clog and wires, he declared to his people that he would find a solve and return.

It's a morbid and dirty laugh but there was something fitting to our blue metal getting inside the skin. He got what he wanted in a way, to be inside his creator. Yet at what cost? Yet he wasn't unsatisfied with it. Something tugged and whispered for more more MORE. Still I remind you he'd still deny it and has been filling tears unweep with bloodshed. The only logical answer in the twist of "unfeeling" metal, was murder. Not that his "friends and kin" were helpful. They wanted to win the war after all.

So he set off to complete what felt so unfinished.

It was only supposed to be one mission. He wasn't supposed to stay here years.

With every failure he grew bolden to keep trying. With every death he grew more obsessed in his goals. Never questioning why or that little story he told himself on his opinion before red stained his blue. Always clawing his way back to that same face. Always wearing that very face. And in the end, never being free of what gripped him so long ago.

Build, rebuild, destroy. Nothing could patch the error so human. Nothing stopped that Wile E. Coyote and Roadrunner format. Nothing could end that part where he failed to commit that same murder twice. Something that he misplaced as wanting to take longer to kill what made him suffer so. 

Don't mistake my words. Angst is a reason but doesn't justify. One gets no redemption until one decides to want redemption.

Let us flash forward.

A man of flesh remembered everything. He stood in a living room with a double agent in skin that he never felt right in. The time of questioning who he was over. The remembering started with a light chuckle. He was so relieved to finally have an answer. That didn't last as he began to scream in horror and pain. Which, Same.

There was something unhinged about this man after. Death does that I hear. He raged his angst. I wasn't all too surprised when he attempted to cut away the flesh that became him. How cruel the symbolic. No heart of iron, the robot still trying to deny his humanity turns to cut away the beating "glitch." Then in stepped the source. In the per typical rant continued, he rages what looks so like his creator but cares so much more. The strangling begins with that murderous rage all too well-known. Then words are said that make me question. "You made me care about you!" He repeats again and again in that boiled haterage.

There's something to be said about strangling someone to death and sex. That being, "Kinky." I personally distaste mixing my peas and potatoes. However as a Writer, I must read in. It's half my enjoyment. Especially how Mechakara strangles Linkara. He sits on the hips, looks into the eyes, and tries to crush the windpipe just slowly enough to listen to the dying noises. That's a lot of unnecessary stuff to slowly and painful kill. Why even touch the skin? Why mount the hips out of everything?

Seems too intimate for even accounting sadistic wants. Strangling someone takes a while sure but it's not that long. There's much more painful and slower means of torture. Yet, he picks riding atop and strangling...

Hey, Linkara is vocal about liking robots. Even when his older main villain is a robot.

So as he backed away, commenting to himself that he'll let them destroy each other. We wonder about the return of Mechakara. I ponder something else. The nature of this hate that drives the villain to return again.


	2. Chapter 2

The Error of Love

A man stands before a horror from beyond the pale. He is terrified as we would all be. Still he is the only person in the world, so he has to save everyone. Yet still there's additional horror. As a child, he summoned it forth and saw the beast's bones and heard an unnatural scream. Here he stands in his own living room. The last man on earth isn't a fighter like most knights that slay dragons, he is a man who thinks to defeat. Of course that's little help, given the horror before him likely knows the taste of God's knowledge. Out thinking this problem isn't happening.

There's a song I only know a few of the words to. "Boo ba bum, It came from the sea and ate everyone else but it didn't eat me." I am likely remembering it wrong. Still fitting.

My own father made many musings on what the last man on earth would do. What would a person do alone without anyone else on the planet. Unfortunately those always ended badly. My father's words were knowledgeable yet inspired existential crisis more than provoking deep thought. The last man on earth does something the same. However instead making a small child believe that their existence is worthless, this was a hopeful defeat of a monster of pixels.

The beast from the shores destroyed itself in confusion. Freeing the whole world in it's death. While everyone celebrated, something remained. A piece of the world was still missing. It's own world missing a piece, purpose. Leading to it attaching to the hero who saved the world. This was no dragon. He was no knight. The defeat saved everyone but it was only partly.

For years, the champion continued his heroics and the monster slept as listening. The hero fell, using his magic, and the monster slept ever listening. The hero rose back and saved another universe, the monster slept in regrowth. The monster lay inside him, sleeping and warm without danger. One day, another horror stepped to the crown. In revenge, the man became god went to slay the champion. The crown fell in ruin as the beast missing displayed itself in an act of murder to it's own family member. His brother died and so magic user continued unknowing. 

As the never should awoke, it remained clinging to what had defeated it.

See, unlike many of his hat and my dad our main character wasn't so jaded and cyan as to believe our existence is waste of space. He like those rosey knights in the fairy tales believed to everyone being important. His words to end the never was were told in falsehood. The existence crisis eased to listen such to this idealistic ideals, ever comforting away from the harsh void. The Error wished to sleep with our hero, forever. To sleepwalk through forever in play with him.

The Glitch reached a hand too harmful to bring The Human along. Pleading as best it could to make him play and dance like sleepwalk into infinity. Explaining further that it loved so to play with him. This game of minds in a dream of dance. The touch shocked fear into his soul, that same fear that held him so a child. He fought back in that fear. Just as he'd done before. Playing into the game but denying the sleepwalk. The monster remained hidden inside him, enjoying the game and company.

The bird still danced dreamy in it's sleepwalk dance, luring ever the person. The people around the hero, saw the puppet strings and were frightful. They so feared for their friend and feared him. So the kid who was possessed before, reached out for the tin knight to slay the beast. As the dance of sleep took a paranoia, the friends of the hero allied themselves to this said tin knight. Leaving their friend despite themselves, allowing the monster to curl it's embrace around the hero.

The hero looked refused this embrace and again the sleepwalk. He fought unknowing against the strings. The Missing beast held tighter in fitful sleep. In the denial becoming more like a child in temper tantrum. Trying to continue this game and win. In the end, the hero refused to play it's games. Missingno begged for a purpose, having before found purpose in Linkara. Linkara could offer no purpose it would take. Missingno attempted to gain comfort in him again yet remembered it's death. That first feeling of helpless. The fear from what was pray. The enjoyment from the former pray at it's death.

There was no clinging that would end that fear. Beyond that it's errored touch only harmed. Becoming human would offer an opportunity to sway that fear. Yet, Missingno was no human. Nothing stopped that. It knew humanity and couldn't be squeezed down to that. It couldn't be with the hero who destroyed it, therefore chasing this comfortable warmth for a purpose would be a short lived and foolish choice. There was nothing left. Linkara was supposed to be the purpose but Linkara rejected it and would always fear it.

So The Entity allowed itself to die. Still wishing to cling to that error which shouldn't be capable of Eldritch Abomination. That one thing that all alike itself lacked but seen so many times before. Love.

I apologize for the sappy ending. Also The Entity | Missingno tag is gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Undead creatures actually have a history of seducing humans, surprisingly.

An idea I got after hearing Moarte does his show across from Linkara in the new house.

Those two were arguing again. Before they could reasonably avoid each other. So even though they always hated another, they didn't really fight. They ignored the other, only having to exist in the same building for a month. That was no longer a choice. In fact, they had share the same room. Not the entire month but only the few hours of the week. Despite this, they butted heads. They couldn't even tell what they were arguing about and they had long finished whatever they were doing.

The undead ghoul threatened, to come out from behind the table. The living human scoffed in reply, an insult about his pale form being due to greasepaint. The undead man was shocked and offended by the living man. He pointed out, it was not makeup. This did nothing to that assumption. It even convinced that it was makeup more so. The man in the fedora and coat got up. He was about to walk out the door as he insulted, however the walk and insult were cut off. The reviewer stood then took fearful step backwards. His voice was nervous as he fumbled a joke.

While our human person has defeated a great number of enemies, he didn't consider it coming down to this. The plan was always avoid the inhuman monster that follows him to everywhere. One can say it did work before. That was until it didn't. They stood the same height but the top hat added on. Making the mortal man feeling stood over. The comic critic called out for his allies and finding something blocking his words from all, still backing away. The spooky spook mused a few dark thoughts aloud, not in a threat but just as his nature.

The comic reviewer knew he had won before by being brave, so he stood bold. The horror only laughed it off, coming in closer. That's about when the beating heart discovered he left his magical weapon in his other coat. The corpus loomed over him, stopping a foot away. The man was banging on the door, shouting for someone anyone. The body found this so amusing that he forgot being angry, returning to his table. The door opened. The living adult blushed in embarrassment to be so afraid and cursed mildly the source.

It was the first time he looked forward to Halloween in years.


End file.
